


Left Alone

by Nora_D_Mindoir



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Alex in the SHU, F/F, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-28 16:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18210875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nora_D_Mindoir/pseuds/Nora_D_Mindoir
Summary: [One-Shot] [Season 1] What if Pennsatucky succeeded with her “godly” task at Christmas Eve?





	Left Alone

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoiler**  
>  Season 1
> 
>  **Rating**  
>  T for Language and Violence
> 
>  **Disclaimer**  
>  All rights of Orange is the new Black including the characters belong to Netflix, Lionsgate, Jenji Kohan and Piper Kerman. This product is a one-hundred percent non-profitably project.
> 
>  **A/N**  
>  This is a reupload from FanFiction.net.

_If you couldn’t be loved, the next best thing was to be left alone.  
~ Lucy Maud Montgomery_

I see her running past me, her eyes filled with emotions the way I’ve only seen before when her temper kicked in, her pace fast. She doesn’t seem to know where she’s going, she doesn’t seem to control her feet. She just hurries out of the chapel while the chant of the play roars through the doors.

I lean against one of the many beige walls as she walks my way, then past me and then away. She doesn’t even see me, and I wish I could say the same.

Her words still tore their way into my heart like a rusty blade, turning and twisting so that the pain never stops. “I pick him”, she said in a faint voice. I knew she was sorry for that, I could hear it. But I didn’t care. I just wanted her gone. I wanted to be left alone. And so I said.

“Fuck you”, I spat it out like venom. But it was a term towards myself as much as against her. Eight years have passed since she left me in Paris, since she tore my heart apart for the first time and left me broken in hundreds of pieces. I had to put them back together myself, no one there to help me, but I never really succeeded because one piece kept missing regardless of how much I was searching for it.

When I ratted her out it was because I was still pissed at her. Because she left me broken. But then I found the last piece, I knew what it was as soon as I looked into those blue eyes for the first time after eight years. And it was true what I said to her in the kitchen after she found out about it, “I wanted you to like me.” _Stupid me, stupid me_ , I chanted in my head over and over again as I stood up and left the library. I should’ve stayed with the gleeful feeling of throwing her under the bus instead of returning to love, whispering phrases like “I heart you” into her ear, believing her as she said it back. I threw myself into this illusion that nothing changed. That Paris had never happened.

“Stupid me”, I whisper again as I watch Piper leave the building through a door she actually isn’t supposed to go, not that I care. I push myself off the wall and turn around, planning to go back to the dorms and lay down on my not really comfortable bunk, when I see Pennsatucky exiting the chapel through the side door.

The meth-head wears a gown made of white sheets and paper as well as a silver halo sparkling in the cold prison light. She follows Piper’s path, eyes fixed on the door, not caring about anybody else in the hallway. She passes me as well and when I see her back I can identify a wooden cross in her hands.

I crane an eyebrow when Pennsatucky finally steps through the door as well. Something draws me outside, a feeling, a very bad feeling, but I don’t go. I stay still, look at the door, which now Healy goes through only to come back inside seconds later with a sudden but very faint smirk on his face. I furrow my brow further.

Clapping and cheering resonates from the chapel moments before its doors burst open and the inmates pour out of it, spreading in the hallway, heading separate ways. The sound of chatter, singing and heavy footsteps fill my ears, but my gaze is firmly fixed on the door.

It opens what feels like hours later and Pennsatucky enters the hall. She’s smiling. No. She’s grinning, mischievous, nothing like an angel, but rather like the devil himself.

The first thing I notice is that her cross is gone.

The second thing I see is red. It’s not much, but some red... paint?... is splattered across her hands and originally white dress.

Before I even realize it I dash across the hallway and burst through the door. “Piper?”, I shout in a shaky voice as I can’t see her standing anywhere in the fenced area. It’s cold. Not wearing my jacket and only a short tee under my khaki I’m freezing. My heavy breath is visible in the faint light as I keep moving. Some snow melts on my skin and in my hair.

And then I see her. “No”, I whisper, scarcely audible even for myself. I shuffle closer to the motionless body in the snow, my vision gets blurrier with every step I take. “No, no, no”, I chant as I drop to my knees next to her.

Her blue eyes are wide open, but they don’t move. Her lips are parted, but I can’t see her breathing. There’s a wound at her neck. The wooden cross sticks out of Piper’s torso. Everywhere is blood. Across her torso, her neck, around her. It’s spreading, melting the snow and now drenching my pants. But I don’t even notice.

I cup her pale face and turn her towards me. Her eyes are staring in my direction now, but not at me. They’re staring at nothing. They’re empty, dry, the usual energy in them gone. “Pipes?”, I whisper again before I shout for help. Finally tears leave my eyes. I shout again. The tears stream down my cheeks, my vision is a mere blur. Another shout. “Don’t do this to me”, I whisper to Piper as I comb with my shaky fingers through her blonde hair and slightly shake her bloody shoulder as if I could wake her from a nap. A fourth shout escapes my lips before I collapse on top of her, burry my face in the nape of her neck and beg her loudly sobbing, “don’t you fucking leave me!”

I don’t hear the door open behind me, the gasps and shouts or the footsteps coming closer. I don’t feel the hands on my shoulders, my arms, my waist, trying to pull me away. I just beg her over and over again. “No! Leave me alone!”, I try to break free as they finally pry  me away from her. I hit and kick everywhere as they drag me back into the prison.

“Piper!”, I scream one last time before they close the door. And the whole world just collapses. I slump down in the arms of the three guards who carried me back inside and now set me down against one of the walls.

“Vause”, Bell snaps at me and gives me a slight slap against my blood smeared face. Piper’s blood. And it’s everywhere I now realize. My shocked face, my trembling hands, my clothing, the floor around me and the wall I lean against. The CO’s hands and clothing. “Vause”, she shouts again, louder this time and my eyes snap up to meet hers.

She doesn’t say anything more, just stares at me until I finally stop shaking and reduce my uncontrolled sobbing to a faint whimper.

Not until now I take in my surroundings, beginning with the loud alarm blearing through the prison. The other two Officers who dragged me back inside are Donaldson who keeps a firm grip on my right shoulder and Maxwell who shouts into her radio for immediate medical service while moving back outside, even though it’s too late. I know that it’s too late.

Around us several other inmates lie on the floor, some eye the ground, some eye me with thick worry on their faces, take in the blood scattered across my body and the few unshed tears in my eyes.

A medic team rushes through the hall, avoiding the bodies on the ground and dashes outside.

“All inmates return to your bunks immediately!”, a voice shouts through the speakers after the alarm stopped and the women around me slowly stand up and shuffle back to the dorms.

I on the other hand don’t move. “Inmate, on your feet”, Donaldson grumbles next to me and roughly pulls at my arm until I robotically stand up, but instead of moving towards my cube I lean back against the wall, my gaze fixed on the door again, waiting for the medics to push Piper on a stretcher through the door. Donaldson sighs and pulls at my arm again, “let’s go.”

“No”, someone abruptly butts in. The voice let’s my stomach twist and my anger flare. Suddenly my panic, sorrow and grief are gone, turned into nothing but rage. Slowly I turn my head towards Healy. “Take her to the SHU.”

“What, why?”, Bell asks bewildered, “She hasn’t done anything.”

“Do we know that for sure? Look at her cloth”, Healy reasons and gestures towards me.

“You fucking bastard”, I hear myself snarl as if I’m not the one who’s talking. My own voice sounds far away and my actions are uncontrolled as I rip my arm out of Donaldson’s hold. “This is your fault”, I continue and step closer to the old man.

Donaldson grabs my arm again, “inmate, calm down.” I won’t have anything of that, all I see is Healy leaving Piper alone with Pennsatucky, all I think is how he let her fend for herself. I break away from Donaldson’s grip again and instantly leap at the counselor.

I am not a fighter, I never solved my problems with violence. But this time I crave the punch, I imagine how my fist connects with his face and knocks his glasses off, how satisfying it would feel. And so I haul off, ready to set the hit, but Bell stops me, she grabs my arm and twists it behind my back. “This is your fucking fault!”, I scream again in a mixture of pain and fury.

“Is that enough reason for solitary now?”, Healy asks Bell with a grin across his face directed towards me and I realize that he didn’t even move. He stood there, he would’ve let me punch him because then they would’ve put me away without hesitation. Not just the SHU but down to max.

Bell sighs behind me and grabs my other arm, snapping cuffs on my wrists, “come on now.” As we turn around I see what I’ve been waiting for. The door opens and the medics push a stretcher into the prison building, a filled black body bag on top of it.

Just like that she is gone.

 

.oOo.

 

In my dreams she appears all the time. Sometimes laughing at my jokes, sometimes snuggling into my embrace for much needed comfort. Sometimes she kisses me with so much love and sometimes she screams at me with even more hate.

I dream of things we did, places we went, conversations we had. I dream of the night I told her I love her and how she smiled at me slightly surprised, “you do?” But most of all I dream of the times she left.

When I wake up after a dream set in Paris, I feel heartbroken and disappointed again, I cry, curl up on the thin mattress.

When I wake up after a dream set in the library, I feel furious, I scream at the blank walls, throw insults.

But the hardest wake ups are the ones after I dream of Christmas Eve. Because when I repeat it all over again in my dream, I realize that it is my fault as well.

I saw her going out. I knew she wasn’t herself, that she has some inner conflict. I saw Pennsatucky following her with a shiv in her hands, even though I didn’t know the cross’s exact purpose at that moment. I saw Healy leaving them alone with a smirk on his face and knew about his hatred for Piper.

But I just stood there. I could’ve gone out. I should’ve gone out. Save her. Or even earlier when she came to my cube, the distress in her eyes. She had a problem, she needed help, but the pain was too fresh so I sent her away. Or if I’d never named her she never would’ve gone to prison, she never would’ve ended up here and never would’ve gotten into a fight with the fucking redneck. Or way back, ten years ago when I dragged her into the business.

If I would’ve done anything of those things differently, she could be…

I sob as the thought once again enters my head. She’s dead. Gone, I’ll never see her again. I don’t know how long I’m already locked up in this small cell but her funeral was probably days ago and I didn’t even have a chance to attend.

“At least you’re not alone”, I hear her voice whisper. It’s not the first time I hear her talking to me since Bell and Donaldson brought me down here, but it’s the first time I don’t tell myself that this is a delusion.

I look up from my knees I tugged firmly against my body to gaze directly into those blue eyes, burning with happiness because I finally acknowledge her.

“Hey, Al”, she smiles at me and takes a step closer. I still view her but don’t speak or move. She isn’t in her khakis, instead she wears the same clothes she wore in Paris the day everything went down. I keep staring at her because I fear that as soon as I drag my eyes off her she’ll be gone again. She plops down at the far end of the mattress and laughs shortly. “You know, the last time I was here I talked to my neighbor”, she gestures to the grid at the wall and then furrows her brow in consideration, “I never learned if she was real or not.”

“I know that you’re not real”, I finally whisper and force myself to look away and close my eyes. But Piper doesn’t vanish. I can see her out of the corner of my eye as I open them again. She simply smiles at me while crawling closer.

“Does that really matter?”, she asks me and leans her head on my shoulder. My muscles twitch as I can actually feel her weight on me, feel her hair tickle the skin of my neck.

I inhale deeply and close my eyes again, listen to her breathing, her wonderful and steady breathing. I know that she isn’t real. She died, I saw her, I saw the blood. But this feels so good.

After a while of silence I begin to ask her questions with my eyes still closed. The questions are not relevant, just to keep her talking so I can hear the beautiful voice and laugh.

“I’m so sorry”, I whisper to her after another moment of silence.

“I know”, she simply states, “me too.”

Suddenly her weight left my shoulder. I open my eyes again and turn my head to see that she left the mattress, but not me. She stands at the red door and gazes out of the tiny window.

“They’re coming”, she breathes sadly and turns back around to look at me.

“Who’s coming?”, I ask and then hear the familiar keys open the heavy door.

“I love you, Alex Vause”, Piper ignores my question completely and closes up to me again, bends down on my level, takes my face into her hands and gives me a soft kiss, “don’t you ever forget that.” She steps back and watches the door as I watch her.

Suddenly some of the last words I ever said to her come into my mind and I have to choke back another sob. “Not with your love.”

“On your feet, inmate”, a grumpy CO calls out and my head snaps back to the door where a tall man stands with cuffs in his hands.

I react without really thinking about it and turn around so that he can cuff me. I lock my eyes with Piper’s for the last time, whispering “I love you, too” before I leave her behind in the cell. Alone.

_the end…_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I planned to write a third part outside of the SHU, but then I really loved the cut after Alex leaves her imagination of Piper behind and decided to end it right there.
> 
> Hope to see you on my other projects again!
> 
> sincerely your roman soldier  
> ~ Mindoir, out


End file.
